Unwell
by Mirloc
Summary: On chapter song-fic, about the summer following OOTP.


Unwell  
  
All day staring at the ceiling Making friends with shadows on my wall All night hearing voices telling me That I should get some sleep Because tomorrow might be good for something  
  
Hold on Feeling like I'm headed for a breakdown And I don't know why  
  
Harry Potter looked at the perfectly normal white ceiling of his room. Unfortunately it had the effect of being like a cinema screen. Over and over he watched the small band of students enter the Ministry and in agonizing slow motion watched Bellatrix kill Sirius.  
  
He heard her raspy voice telling him she was coming after him next. Telling him how easily he had been fooled by such a simple trick of the Dark Lord's how he had been such an easy target for manipulation that the Dark Lord wouldn't need but a flick of his finger to kill Potter.  
  
Really, what did he think he was good for? The Ministry buildings are some of the most secure in the Wizarding world, and yet they had simply walked right in, as had the Death Eaters and Voldemort himself. 'Lovely idea they have for defenses.' He snorted derisively, some old wizard more likely to ask for an autograph than to actually defend the Ministry.  
  
He looked at the clock on his bedside table. 'Great, I get my every third day checkup tomorrow morning.' He groaned and rolled onto his side and tried again to sleep.  
  
Harry padded downstairs; he was still wearing his robes from the train ride a week ago. He listlessly walked to the sink took a glass of water, and grabbed a slice of toast heading back to his room.  
  
Tonks was waiting for him. "You know Harry, you - ah - should really consider a more balanced meal."  
  
"Not hungry." He threw the toast in the trash bin after taking two bites, and finished his water. He groggily flopped onto his bed.  
  
Tonks looked at him carefully. "Harry? When was the last time you showered?"  
  
"Don't know."  
  
"I'd say it hasn't been since you were in Hogwarts."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Perhaps you git it's because you are still wearing your school robes." She was starting to get cross now.  
  
"I'm fine. I eat three meals a day, and get plenty of rest and exercise." Harry said in the same monotone he had used since he returned to the Dursleys.  
  
Tonks stood up and was about to leave, but stopped and turned to face him her usual happy-go-lucky demeanor gone. "Stop being a selfish bastard. You don't have the lease to all the suffering of the world you know." She slammed the door behind her.  
  
Harry ignored her. In his mind he watched Sirius Black die again.  
  
Harry realized he was asleep when the pecking of an owl woke him. He unrolled the parchment and read it.  
  
Dear Harry,  
  
Just keeping my promise to keep you informed. Unfortunately, there's not much to inform you of that's not in the Prophet. You do still get that right? If not, it's actually gotten loads better now.  
  
Your Friend, Hermione  
  
Harry glanced at the pile of Prophets on the floor and sighed. Yes, he knew what was in the papers. People were vanishing only to turn up dead weeks later. The Dark Mark was cropping up here and there. The Death Eaters they had sent to Azkaban had escaped.  
  
Several weeks passed, Harry had managed to push his grief aside long enough to care for his personal hygiene, much to the relief of the Dursely's who had taken to pretending Harry didn't exist anymore, and to Remus Lupin and Mad Eye Moody who had taken over looking in on him.  
  
It was mid August, and Harry realized with a mild shock he was actually looking forward to his checkup. A soft knock on the door startled him, and he sat up and crossed to the door. On the other side stood Ginny Weasley.  
  
But I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell  
  
I know right now you can't tell  
  
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see  
  
A different side of me  
  
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired  
  
I know right now you don't care  
  
But soon enough you're gonna think of me  
  
And how I used to be...me  
  
"Wha - Ginny?" He looked confused.  
  
"Hey Harry." She looked at him expectantly.  
  
"Oh, right." He backed out of the way leaving room for her to come in. He looked about and saw to his disgust his room looked like a dump. Literally. "I, ah" He flushed with embarrassment.  
  
"Houself's month off?" She asked as she looked around the room.  
  
Harry looked at her with his mouth open, and realizing how he looked shut it, and began to push items around the room with little actual improvement.  
  
"So how have you been Harry?" Ginny asked sitting on the only clean spot she could find, a corner of his bed.  
  
He stopped with his arms full of dirty clothes and looked at her oddly for a second. "I." he got an odd look on his face as if any thought at all pained him deeply. "I don't know."  
  
"Want to talk about it?"  
  
He looked around, in an almost paranoid way. "You, you won't tell anyone, will you?"  
  
She looked him in the eye. "I won't tell a soul. I'll say you kept repeating 'I'm fine. I eat three meals a day, and get plenty of rest and exercise.' And I finally got brassed and left. How's that?"  
  
He dropped the clothes on the ground and extended his hand. "Do you swear?"  
  
She looked at his hand a moment, and grasped it in hers. "I swear as Ginny Weasley I will not tell." With those words Harry felt the contract bind them magically.  
  
He pulled his desk chair over and sat in it backwards, resting his chin on the back. "Look up and tell me what you see."  
  
She glanced at the white ceiling. "A bad paint job and cobwebs." A thought struck her. "What do you see Harry?"  
  
"All of last year's Ministry thing. I see it over and over again." He looked over at the piece of parchment on the bedside table. "Two hundred eighty seven times, in fact. Counting dreams I remember."  
  
Ginny gasped slightly. "Harry, we have to get you out of here."  
  
Harry laughed a mirthless laugh. "Tell Dumbledore, he's the one who's locked me up here."  
  
Ginny stood. "Harry, I have to go. The Portkey is taking me back in a few minutes. Do you want me to come again?" Harry couldn't read her features.  
  
"Please." He saw something flash across her eyes then vanish. "Ok Harry. I'll see you in a few days time."  
  
As her hand touched the doorknob his voice stopped her. "Can - I mean would it be ok to write you? I - I know you are dating Dean, but."  
  
She looked at him impassively again. "Of course Harry. Please do write."  
  
The door closed and Harry looked around. 'I really need to clean this sty.' He set about his task.  
  
Three days later Harry found he was pacing looking at his watch. He practically jerked the door of the hinges when he heard the soft knock. Outside stood Ginny, for the first time that summer, Harry Potter smiled.  
  
Ginny looked around the room, it had been almost transformed. The room was still a bit shabby, but it was clean. No dirty clothes, no rotting food or spare glasses. A small tray had a pot and two cups with some rather plain muggle biscuits on the plate.  
  
Harry offered her a chair and himself sat on the bed. He poured them tea. "Thanks." She sipped her tea and ate a few biscuits nodding and answering questions. Her new Portkey could take her back at will. Three hours later she hugged Harry, and headed for the door.  
  
She was barely gone when Harry wished he had more to talk about, a reason to keep her here with him. She understood. Of all the people in either world Ginny Weasley understood him.  
  
He had opened himself to Ginny because she had always been there for him to dump on. He wrote her immediately.  
  
Dear Ginny,  
  
I am so sorry, I never really thought you might have things you wanted to talk about. Next time, it's your turn. I can't wait for your next visit.  
  
Harry  
  
He sealed the letter and gave it to Hedwig. "Go to Ginny Weasley girl, and stay for an answer."  
  
It came in the morning.  
  
Harry,  
  
No, my visits aren't about me, they are about you. Though I suppose if I told you how I felt, perhaps you would get a feel for how much I understand. Let's wait on that for now, ok?  
  
Ginny  
  
Harry placed it on the stack of letters they had already sent. Hedwig looked at him in a disgusted way and went to sleep, pointedly turning her back on him. He looked at his owl and sighed. 'Well, she's getting a good workout.' He began penning another letter to Ginny, and then headed outside to run.  
  
I'm talking to myself in public  
  
Dodging glances on the train  
  
And I know, I know they've all been talking about me  
  
I can hear them whisper  
  
And it makes me think there must be something wrong with me  
  
Out of all the hours thinking  
  
Somehow I've lost my mind  
  
Harry pounded around the block for the fourth time that day. Ginny's visits left him feeling drained mentally, and emotionally, but still sleep eluded him unless he did something physical. September first was rapidly approaching, and he had yet to get permission to go to Diagon Alley. Ginny informed him today that he'd be leaving in two days to go to The Burrow, and that her mum already bought Harry's things.  
  
After his seventh circuit, Harry felt exhaustion approaching him, a small smile played on his lips. 'Finally, I can get some sleep.'  
  
That night a new dream played out for him. One he had never expected. It caused him to jerk away sweating. "What in the bloody fuck was that about?" A shaking hand grabbed his glasses and he looked around the room. It had been so real. He could almost feel. "No, dammit NO!" He looked into Hedwig's cage and wrote a rather long letter to Ginny.  
  
When Hedwig returned from hunting she saw Harry holding an envelope and he swore he saw her roll her eyes. She reached out and grabbed the letter flying off into the night. "But" Harry watched her dwindle away. "I didn't say who it was for." She was gone from sight.  
  
Hedwig returned that morning. A small scrap of paper grasped in her hand with a single word on it in handwriting that could only be Ginny's. "Yes."  
  
Harry smiled, and began packing. The next morning Ginny returned. Harry was waiting on the steps of the house sitting on the steps, his trunk and broom in his room ready to go.  
  
She walked up to Harry cautiously. "Alright Harry?"  
  
"Well, that kind of depends on you." He blurted out. He then turned red.  
  
She looked at him a minute and sat on the walk in front of him. "What do you want to know Harry?"  
  
"Are you really seeing Dean?" Harry asked 'Please say no, please say no.'  
  
"No, I just said that to get a rise out of Ron, he's been after me to 'get a proper boyfriend' since last term. Like I have to beat them away with a beater's bat anyway."  
  
"Good!" He then realized what he had blurted out. "Er I mean, I - I don't know what I mean." He let his head drop into his hands.  
  
Ginny looked at him and she tilted her head slightly. "Harry, you aren't making much sense. Let's get your things and we'll go home."  
  
Harry reached out and grasped her hand to help her up, and found himself looking deeply into her brown eyes. 'There is so much in there. I want to drown in. WHAT IN THE HELL AM I THINKING?' He physically shook his head to clear it.  
  
Ginny place her other hand over his. "Are you sure you are ok to travel Harry?" Her hand released his and brushed over his forehead. His eyes dropped down as he leaned into her touch. 'Oh Merlin she has nice.' Harry backed away from her and fell from tripping over the stairs. The last he remembered was seeing Ginny lean forward giving him a great view of... and the darkness claimed him.  
  
But I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell  
  
I know right now you can't tell  
  
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see  
  
A different side of me  
  
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired  
  
I know right now you don't care  
  
But soon enough you're gonna think of me  
  
And how I used to be  
  
I've been talking in my sleep  
  
Pretty soon they'll come to get me  
  
Yeah, they're taking me away  
  
Harry woke up looking at a ceiling made of a soft brown color. 'Funny, I don't remember painting the ceiling any color let alone brown.'  
  
He reached for his glasses and his hand collided with something.soft. He turned his head groggily and was looking at his hand grasping Ginny's. He sat bolt upright, jerking his hand back as if he had thrust it in hot coals. 'I will not think about what I just touched...' he repeated to himself over and over.  
  
"Ah, Harry?" He heard Ginny's voice. "I, er, I'm glad you are awake but I'm not so sure I appreciate that kind of welcome."  
  
While he heard the teasing in her voice, a part of him was utter mortified by where his hand had wound up he buried his face in his hands and groaned. 'On the other hand, it was quite pleasant.' A little voice said in the back of his mind. "Oh god no. I'm going crazy."  
  
"Harry?" Ginny sounded a bit worried.  
  
He picked up his head and felt her cool fingers slide his glasses on his face, she came into focus and his mouth opened of its own accord. Even worse than what he had done, he found his traitorous voice was working. "We should do that again."  
  
Ginny's eyes widened slightly. But she remained looking at him in the same way. "Are you feeling well Harry?"  
  
But I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell  
  
I know right now you can't tell  
  
But stay awhile and maybe then you'll see  
  
A different side of me  
  
I'm not crazy, I'm just a little impaired  
  
I know right now you don't care  
  
But soon enough you're gonna think of me  
  
And how I used to be  
  
He looked into her eyes, those lovely chocolate eyes. "You are so pretty." His voice was hoarse, barely a whisper. "And I am such a fool for not having noticed before." He leaned forward and kissed her.  
  
As soon as his lips touched hers the fogginess in his brain faded, and everything became crystal clear. Ginny's eyes opened as they parted. 'When had she closed them?' he wondered.  
  
"Harry?" Her voice was slightly lower. Harry decided he liked the huskiness of her voice. "Wh - what was that all about?"  
  
"I - well, that is to say I - You are a girl, and - most people do that when they, you know - on a regular basis."  
  
"What in the bloody hell did you just say?"  
  
He took a deep breath and tried again. "My hand, er no that's not a good place to begin. not that it was bad! Oh heavens no. but, but that wasn't appropriate until well, or under a more suitable time, and arrangement. perhaps with a house and all, but not here! Oh no, that's bad."  
  
Her voice was soft, warm and inviting. "Want to try that one more time Harry?"  
  
He leaned in and kissed her again. "What I mean to say is, simply put, I like you. A lot. A whole lot in fact. I'm not sure what it is really, because I like you as much as I do Hermione, but - but not THAT way, I mean she's like a sister, a - and you don't do things like that with a sister, right? I mean it's wrong. There - no, no not even like Hermione, because she likes Ron, and well, that would be just sick. You know?" He managed to get out after separating from the second kiss.  
  
Ginny, long since having caught on what was troubling the boy, decided to have him on a bit. "So you are saying you like someone in this house a lot?"  
  
Harry sighed and smiled as he nodded. "Yes! Exactly!"  
  
"Well, Hermione's going to be quite upset I'm sure." Ginny said looking thoughtful.  
  
"No! I - I don't like her! Well, I mean I do but not like that!" He looked horrified. "I - I need to talk to her."  
  
Ginny grinned. "After all if you are chasing after Ron."  
  
"WHAT? NO! Not Ron! Ugh! That's sick!" Harry paled and the look of utter horror deepened.  
  
"Well, who is left then?"  
  
"YOU! I like you Ginny!" Harry practically shouted. Suddenly his eyes went wide, and he clapped a hand over his mouth. His eyes surveyed the room, and took in a sight that would have quelled a lesser man.  
  
"So, I take it you like Ginny then?" Fred asked.  
  
"I believe he does dear brother." George answered.  
  
"So sorry mate." Fred clasped Ron on the shoulder. "Looks like he doesn't fancy you."  
  
Hermione was sitting next to Ron on the floor with a book in her lap, both of them red from stifling their laughter.  
  
Harry felt a hand on his shoulder and his eyes followed the hand up into the face of Bill. "Buck up mate, can't get much worse than this you know." He grinned evilly at Harry.  
  
From his other side He heard Charley "You are more articulate normally, right Harry? I mean you never seemed to be at such a loss for words before, you know."  
  
Harry dearly wished he could vanish on the spot. "Oh god."  
  
Yeah, how I used to be  
  
How I used to be  
  
Well, I'm just a little unwell  
  
How I used to be  
  
How I used to be  
  
I'm just a little unwell 


End file.
